03

Thank you all so much for the kind comments and suggestions from Chapter 1! I love how much you already love Rayden & Quinn! I still haven't found an editor... but I am trying SO hard to do better with the grammar and run ons in the meantime. I have 2 writing apps I run it through before submission so hopefully that catches most of them! Many of you wanted a longer story, so I have combined chapters 2 & 3 and am working on making sure all the rest to follow are longer!

Chapter 2

Quinn pulled the handle, immediately flooded with relief when she found it unlocked. Exhausted, she slid down the door to the cold tile floor once inside the safety of its darkness and the locked door behind her.

She hadn't had a random panic attack like that in months.

"What was wrong?" she thought silently. It was like the fires of hell were stoking for her, while being drug to the gates to her own damnation. Her skin felt cold and clammy, her body quivered uncontrollably as images that were seared into the theatre of her mind flashed over and over.

"NO! No no no!" she cried into the dark.

She wore bracelets every night to work, and most anywhere made of thick leather straps, held closed with smaller straps and small, silver buckles that resembled studded belts. The perfect size to hide something small and thin. She flicked the buckles with her left hand in the dark, where a black silken piece of cloth sat, neatly concealing something folded inside.

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!*

The loud and abrupt pounding tore her from the intrusive thoughts, causing her to nearly jump from her own skin. The object under her bracelet fell to the floor unnoticed to Quinn, as she relatched the bracelet and got to her feet, flipping on the light switch hoping the person pounding wouldn't ask questions about why she'd hadn't turned it on previously.

"Sorry. I'll be out in a minute." she called to the impatient person on the other side.

"Open the door." a male voice full of authority replied flatly.

"Seriously?" she muttered under her breath. "The men's room is down the hall!" she snapped back.

"Open. The. Door." the voice clipped again, leaving no room for argument.

Having ran out of patience, her anxiety retreating to anger, she flicked the lock and pulled open the door ready for a fight.

"Look you ignoramus-" she started, before realizing to whom she was speaking.

6' 7" of pure perfection stood in front of her.

"Fuck." The word was out of her mouth before she could stop it.

"Right now?" he said coyly, raising his eyebrows clearly amused, "Or after your shift?" A sly grin formed over his gorgeous face as he stared back at the wide eyed, frozen beauty, before him.

She brought a hand to her mouth as if trying to push the word back, her face turning scarlet, as she stood before Rayden Cage.

The boss. The main event. The Godfather, for lack of all other analogies.

He smelled of nicotine and subtle cologne. She wasn't sure if it was cologne, or just the scent that came from his perfect physique, but it teased and tickled her nose.

Her brown eyes focused on his brow, to give the appearance that they met his eyes, but he wasn't fooled.

"What's your name?" he snapped, breaking the silence, demanding an answer to a question he already knew. Rayden knew everyone that worked for him, intel and record keeping if you will. Nothing got passed him, ever.

As if she forgot everything she built her existence on her voice, barely a whisper breathed, "Va- n- nn-ness..."

"What the hell!?" her mind scolded silently, catching the mistake she hadn't made in 2 years.

"QUINN!" she finally spat. Desperate to cover the error. "My name is Quinn, Mr... C-aagge."

"Get it together!" Her mind demanded.

"Look at me." Rayden ordered. Her eyes still fixed on his brow that had knitted into an aggravated stare.

She shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny. "I-- I am." she lied as her eyes began darting side to side in panic.

In a swift, graceful movement, Rayden was through the door slamming it behind him with his foot, before taking hold of her around the waist, spinning 180° pressing her against the door with his rock solid body, holding her several feet off the ground, so she was face to face with him.

"Got something to hide from me?" he accused.

"Damn, she was beautiful." His thoughts intruded, as she shook, pinned between the cold door and his unforgiving form helplessly.

"Cheshire cat got your tongue, Rabbit?" he leaned in and whispered, lips pressed against her ear.

"Ra-rabb-bit..?" she stammered against him.

Pulling his face from her hair, he brought his hand under her chin and firmly clasped ahold, his eyes burned into hers as he forced her to make eye contact with him.

Petrified, she couldn't peel her dark brown eyes from his ice cold blue ones. Her heart beat became harder and faster against his chest.

She was as terrified of eye contact as someone would have been at seeing a ghost. Tears formed in the corners of her scared, beautiful brown eyes.

Rayden's eyes narrowed at her reaction, as his inquisitive stare held her prisoner.

Though she came off to the rest of the world as standoffish, even rude and stuck up, he'd seen straight through the heavy armor at first sight. Rayden was determined now, more than ever to tear into the very core of her soul. Yet he couldn't even begin to understand WHY he needed to so desperately. He had her under his complete control leaving her completely helpless.

Something Quinn had been before and vowed she would never be again, though now that vow having been for nothing, as Rayden held her at his mercy.

The air was hostage in her chest, agian... she fought to breathe in vain, panic taking control her mind knowing no other neans if fight ir escape, her consciousness succumbed to darkness.

Rayden's attention was quickly taken from the spell her eyes held over him as they began blinking rapidly. Her body shook harderwhile her limbs twitched like she was having a full on seizure, "Hey!?" he called out trying to snap her out of whatever was happening to her. "Quinn!?" he almost shouted when her eyes rolled back and fell shut, and body went limp in his arms.

He held her protectively, listening for her breathing return to normal. Convinced finally that she wasn't in need of medical attention, he shifted her against him so she lay bridal style in his arms. Quinn looked like she was sleeping peacefully, nothing at all like moments ago, convulsing with fear.

"So fragile, little Rabbit" he whispered, "You need some toughen up in you girl."

Carefully he leaned down to open the door where outside stood two of his security guards waited. Neither of which were taken aback by the sight of Rayden holding an unconscious bartender, even though this certainly wasn't accustomed to his normal behavior, Daniel and Jake simply never questioned or tried to understand Rayden's actions for anything after having been in service to the family for his entire life.

"Daniel, take her to my room.'' he instructed the guard on the left, placing Quinn in Daniel's arms, "After my fight I'll be up to check on her, she must have had some sort of anxiety attack and passed out." Once Daniel had a secure hold of her, Rayden stepped back to switch off the light, when his foot came down on something catching his attention. Kneeling down, he found a black piece of cloth appearing to be folded around something. How he felt it under his thick soled black boots was beyond him as he examined the cloth before finally unwrapping it.

"This damn well better not have been yours..." he whispered to no one, his jaw clenching, when he discovered a pristine razor blade was what the cloth held.

Those had very few uses that one would need to conceal.

"Daniel!" he called after the guard carrying Quinn. "Don't leave her alone, not even for a second. And don't let her leave if she wakes up before I'm back, do NOT let her go." he ordered. Daniel nodded again in acknowledgement, then continued towards the private elevator that led to Rayden's living quarters above the club.

He wrapped the blade back in the cloth and handed it to Jake, the remaining guard. "Hold on to this, don't lose it. I'll take it back after my fight." he instructed,as they made their way down the hall to his dressing room. "Tell the Adrian that Quinn is out sick for the night, see that she gets one of the ringside waitstaff back behind the bar with her before the current round is finished."

Jake nodded once, then immediately set off to carry out as he had been instructed.

Rayden ran a tight ship as he rarely missed a beat, down to the smallest of detail. Always seeing to it that everything kept running like a well oiled machine.

His men were loyal, loyal to a fault even.

Had he told Jake to climb to the highest point in the room and jump, he would be dead in less than 5 minutes.

Both Daniel and Jake were his right hand men, having been with his family since Rayden was a baby. Had he allowed himself attachments, you would say, Daniel was much like a father to him, nothing at all was questioned when he spoke, and he kept all the others in line for Rayden at all times when needed.

Rayden was always good to those who were good to him, but a force to be reckoned with if crossed. His staff were taken care of handsomely, from his fighters, to his security, even to the ones who cleaned the blood and sweat from the mats. All were treated with the same respect, and he expected as much from them in return. While having personal attachment to none.

Jaxon Cage, the creator of this vast and very profitable empire, also Rayden's deceased father, had taught his son that attachment was weakness. Period. John wasn't a man known for regarding anyone with patience and kindness, including his young protégé, who remembered his father as distant and nothing more. Jaxon Cage was a businessman, after all.

The reality of Jaxon Cage's true colors, was he was the epitome of a covert narcissist, and a born psychopath.

Rayden was entirely oblivious to how strong a hold his father still unapologetically had on him, though it had been years since his passing.

Once Rayden reached his changing room, he methodically prepared for his turn to take the arena. Slow and deliberate, he made his way to the entrance of the octagon arena to await the announcer's cue, focused and ready to take on his opponent.

Rayden's conscious forefront had always held just two things: work and fighting.

Even the girl being tucked into his room above, where no one but he had been in years would change that

Or so his inner self tried arguing against every of thought of Quinn that relentlessly invaded.

Of course... Alice didn't seem to think that trying to find out a simple white rabbit's agenda would be anything life altering at all by the end of the day anymore than Rayden thought when he spotted Quinn, but he was just as wrong as Alice... knowing not just how far down the rabbit hole he was about to fall.

*******

Chapter 3

Rayden stood in the spacious shower, high pressure jets of water from three separate shower heads hit him in each direction.

Fights were calming to Rayden, and therapeutic. He was a natural born predator, dripping with venom when he had to be.

The hot water from the three shower heads, set to max pressure engulfed him, the soap scrubbing remnants of the night from him, yet her intoxicating scent, the way she felt in his arms against his body, and her eyes... her fucking eyes, hadn't left his senses once.

Rayden turned the handle, bringing the steady streams to a halt. He opened the glass door to the huge shower in his spacious and elaborate bathroom, and grabbed a towel.

The black cloth sat on the spotless, pristine counter, staring back at him.

"Damn you." he sighed heavily, irritated with his own nagging curiosity. Carefully he picked it up to examine the razor blade, again.

It held no traces of powder to suggest it was for drug use. Nor any blood, though it was far too small to be used as a weapon... What reason would she carry this?

His thoughts were stirred as he suddenly remembered that the mysterious owner of the blade and cloth, lay just in the other room. Wrapping the blade back in the cloth and placed it in a drawer behind some hand towels. Pulling on the dark pajama pants that hung behind the door from a hook, then was on his way to her.

***

Both Daniel and Jake stood by the door to the master suite, that led to the hallway. Rayden nodded to them, wordlessly giving them their leave. Shift change was coming, he knew Erik and Mark would be just outside waiting to relieve them. Both men nodded as they left the room.

He turned to his king-sized bed there she was, looking like an angel atop the satin duvet, her face half covered by the silken locks of raven. Her eyes closed, lashes framing them softly, even in her sleep they were intriguing. Her full lips pouted subtly, as she lay motionless facing away from him with her hand resting delicately next to her beautiful face, as though she was waving goodbye. The other laid on her flat stomach, covered by the black corset like top laced from the bottom to the top, tied neatly, framing those perfect C cups. She wore dark jeans that were low cut and hugged her curves. She was toned, her figure full inviting. He felt his excessive manhood twitch as he took in every inch of her beauty, from her black, combat style boots, that laced like her corset shirt, up her shapely, defined legs, that was easy to see through the dark denim skinny jeans, sculpting beautifully to her body.

She stirred in her sleep uncomfortably, most likely from the tight clothing she was still wearing. Carefully, he reached down and undid the button to her snug jeans. She stirred again, causing him to jump. He stepped back, exhaling heavily, not realizing he was holding his breath. Something caught his eye as her pants had shifted just enough to no longer hiding a row of straight, pristine lines on her lower abdomen. Lines so precise only a scalpel or a razor blade could have made.

His skin caught fire, rage surged through his veins. She used the blade to cut where no one else could see, to cut out the pain that she hid away along with the voluntary wound.

People like that normally made him ill, the weak were not worth his time. So why was he angry to see she had done this? What was it about this goddess in front of him, sleeping like a child that overwhelmed with the need to protect her? Whatever had hurt her, he would find and crush, silently he vowed as anger continued coursing his veins like poison. His muscles tensed, his jaw clenched while fire burned behind his blue eyes.

He stepped toward her, to gently move the hair from her beautiful face. So much pain, so much mystery in such a beautiful package. He leaned forward, and brushed his lips to hers, eyes closed and wanting to drown in her.

When he opened his eyes, her dark brown, almost black orbs were staring back- wide and frozen, into his sea of blue. For a moment, the world around them disappeared, and now only the two of them existed.

Reality soon took them from the moment, as her eyes grew wide as his face hovered above hers. His eyes quickly returning to the icy abyss that threatened anything in his path.

"Quinn." he said flatly, standing upright again.

Her eyes shut tight, in reaction, as she scurried away from him until her back was against the headboard, bringing her knees to her chest, protective.

"Wha- what am I doing here--?" her eyes shot around the unfamiliar room, "WHERE am I?" she managed to ask. Her eyes spotting the door that seemed miles away from where she trapped under his cold stare.

"You're with me. Safe. That's all you need to know for now." he stated bluntly, before disappearing into the bathroom.

"Go!" she heard herself scream in her head. "GO NOW!!!".

In a flash she was off the bed, running for the door.

He returned from the bathroom just in time to see her fly from the oversized bed toward the door. She was fast, but he was faster.

Her feet barely touching the floor as she ran, her hand almost had ahold of the handle before a strong arm encircled her waist lifting her effortlessly over his shoulder like nothing more than a rag doll.

"I wouldn't do that, Quinn." Rayden said carrying her back to the bed as she pounded her fists on his back, flailing desperately to get free of his hold, yet his stride never breaking.

"See," he began, "there are two armed men outside that door who will see you tearing out into the hallway, and believe me, they will simply assume you've done something very bad and need stopped, only then will they notice you're just a helpless girl, after they've taken you to the floor, and possibly even have taken their taser to you. Depending on what mood the boy's are in I guess." Smirking as he dropped her on the bed with a thud.

"What the hell!!!?" she shot to her knees and shouted at him.

"You think you own the whole world and everyone in it!? You can't force me to stay here you bastard!" pounding her fists into his rock hard chest, she continued to shout, while his mouth twitched into an amused grin as she exhausted herself, while he didn't even flinch, enraging her more. Quinn was backed into a corner, by a man, an arrogant one at that, fear and rage built, as the world turned red in front of her as reality dissolved, and gave way to the ghosts of demons buried in the past that were all to eager now to run freely after years of dormancy.

Rayden stood solid as she desperately tried to "hurt" him. It wasn't long before he realized, she wasn't... "there" anymore, having seen fighters black out in the ring, overcome by adrenaline and endorphins, even fear and desperation many times.

Dissociation...

When he heard her incoherent rage yell a name that wasn't his, he reached to restrain her finally, but was stopped dead in his tracks when Quinn's fist connected with his rock hard jaw.

His head moved less than an inch, if that, though the force would've been enough for anyone else who was not physically trained or as strong as he, to have been dropped to the floor by the force behind the blow she had just given him.

He was almost impressed. Almost.

Quinn hadn't punched anyone in her life like that, the throbbing pain in her left hand brought her back to the present.

Rayden's arrogance, masculinity and sheer dominance triggered her back, for the first time in she didn't know how long, and saw "his" face, smirking with that sanctimonious grin relishing her pain.

After years of flight, Quinn had at last found her fight response.

Holding her still throbbing hand, cautiously she lifted her gaze only to his chin, though his rage could be felt just the same without seeing it written all over his face.

As well as maybe even a little... shock?

"Shit..." was all she could whisper before he pounced on her like a ravenous wolf.

"That was a very bad idea, Quinn." he stated, calmly.

Too calm.

"Shit..."

*******